


Hips

by jenfurlee (orphan_account)



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:56:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8243653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/jenfurlee





	

It was rare Bridget had to put time in the evenings, but the new flux of inmates had left her busier than usual. Franky had been especially supportive by bringing her dinner up to the space to eat with her as she worked. The culinary masterpieces should have really been enjoyed at an actual table, but they had been just as delicious from her deep oak desk. As soon as they had finished, Franky would pick up the plates and sneak out of the office with a kiss to leave Bridget to work in peace.  
  
It was on her fifth night in a row, and a Friday, no less, that Franky finally lost her cool. Her young lover had tried to coax her into a celebratory roll in the hay to commemorate the end to the hellacious week, to which Bridget declined. In a huff, Franky had mumbled some comments under her breath before grabbing her keys and leaving their home with a quick slam of the door.  
  
The music had been quite a surprise considering Bridget had never once remembered any type of rap playing out of her state of the art stereo system. Usually she prefered her old records to anything more modern on the radio. Her partner on the other hand, listened to anything and everything that popped up on the radio of her car, reciting the lyrics perfectly while drumming along on the steering wheel to the beat. She vaguely could recall listening to the song once in the car and laughing at the obscene lyrics. As she moseyed down the stairs of their new home, Bridget’s mouth dropped to find the brunette dancing solo in the middle of the living room floor. Her blazer had been shed and thrown haphazardly onto the back of the sofa. She danced in her tight slacks and black sleeveless blouse which rose up to reveal a few centimeters of tantalizing olive toned flesh of her hips. It only took a matter of moments for Franky to feel the watchful eyes from the staircase.  
  
The sly smile curled onto her lips as she beckoned Bridget with the curl of her index finger. She teased by brushing her shirt up to show off her pierced belly button against toned abs. The blonde was down the remaining steps in seconds, and between Franky’s gyrating hips to the music.  
  
“What is this?” Bridget asked into Franky’s ear.  
  
“Swing by Savage, it’s my favorite!” Franky said before turning around to press her back against Bridget. Moments later the brunette’s hips began rolling expertly against her to the incredibly catchy chorus of the song. Her young love was bent nearly in half as she danced seductively, flipping her hair. Bridget’s hand brushed up the exposed skin of the woman’s back scratching it with her manicured nails. Arching back, Franky’s hips reacted to the touch by pressing tighter.  
  
“Franky,” Bridget groaned from the added friction.  
  
Franky bit down on her bottom lip shyly, and turned back around her hands sliding down the zipper of her slacks, letting the lime green print of her knickers peak out. Her hand gently pushed Bridget backwards so she was sitting on the sofa. Franky continued to slowly strip of out her pants taking her sweet time while her wife’s eyes took in the glorious sight of her body. Turning around, she slowly slid the fabric down her long, tan legs to show off her glorious firm arse. Bridget couldn’t help but reach out and run her hand over the over the flesh before laying a firm smack against her arse. Gasping softly, the brunette looked over her shoulder with heavy lids.

  


Bridget had been neglecting her girl, and there was only one thing to do. 

  


Roughly, Bridget pulled the tall woman into her lap before running both hands over her now bare inner-thighs. Franky nestled her head back against her shoulder, those desperate green eyes fluttering closed at the contact. Bridget then gripped the flesh tightly eliciting a soft coo from the woman on top of her, and then slid her hands upward tugging the blouse over Franky’s head in one smooth motion. The swells of her breasts were barely restrained in the green material of her matching bra. The blonde tailed wet kisses along her freckled back as her fingers trailed upward to cup her curves. Franky’s wet lips parted as she released a shaking breath.  
  
“Is this what you wanted, Baby?” Bridget purred into her partner’s ear. Franky nodded softly reveling in the intimate touch of the blonde’s hands exploring her breasts. Her long fingers curled to grip against Bridget’s slacks beneath her. “Well aren’t you a clever girl,” Bridget smiled before nibbling on the brunette’s soft earlobe. “Distracting me from my work to get your way, eh?” The young woman blushed with a naughty smile playing on her full lips.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she pressed her breasts up further into Bridget’s groping hands. She wasn’t really sorry, Bridget knew, but she did her best to feign shame.  
  
“You’re sorry for what?” her black manicured nails dug little half-moon indents into the skin of Franky’s hips. She tried so hard to hold back her moan.  
  
“Distracting you,” she managed to speak.  
  
Bridget was usually an impeccable interpreter of Franky Doyle, the eccentric woman whom she had fallen fast and hard for against all the warning signs. The energy between them had always been intoxicating. Their strength was in their ability to balance out the needs of one another. Against all odds, the psychologist discovered that Franky occasionally desired the loss of control. Although unexpected, Bridget now relished the role of the only woman to dominate Franky Doyle.  
  
In the beginning, the edge would settle over the brunette like a little dark cloud sending her into a spell of the “mean reds” as she liked to call them. Initially Bridget would attempt to sooth her with additional time together and random gifts, only to notice the mood would worsen afterwards. After a week of the tension, the psychologist had finally had enough of the attitude and snapped. Although quite out of character for her to ever raise her voice, Bridget found it had somehow worked. With tear-filled eyes, Franky fell to her knees before wrapping her arms around Bridget’s waist. It was the first time Franky had ever begged to be dominated.  
  
She had been engrossed in her work, and the warning signs her partner had been emitting had gone unnoticed. Her tantrum earlier in the evening was the culmination of her feeling unheard by the love of her life. The pang of remorse hit her heart quickly as she took in the glassy hue over Franky’s jade colored eyes.  
  
“What should I do with you now?” she mused running her hands from the brunette’s knees all the way up to brush over the edge of her knickers before sliding back down and repeating the pattern. Franky’s hands gripped tighter at her slacks until her knuckles were white. “I asked you a question,” she stated firmly, removing her hands and lifting the spell.  
  
“Please,” she rasped trying to reach for the blonde’s hands and return them to where she needed her touch the most. Her hips rolled down to try to gain friction between her heated core. Bridget then grabbed her hands at the wrists holding them behind her back.  
  
“Words, Baby,” she reminded.  
  
“Touch me, please. However you what, I just-I fucking need you,” she acquiesced, two tears trailing down her heated cheeks to fall on her exposed chest.  
  
Bridget’s hand slid between the thin fabric over the soft curls of hair before running along her dripping slit causing Franky’s entire body to shudder with pleasure. With slow and firm strokes she ran the length of her several times letting her fingers become coated in her juices. It took minutes before she was panting, her orgasm fast approaching. Teasingly, the blonde pressed her palm down to apply pressure on her neglected clitoris. Her eyes fluttered closed as she prepared for her inevitable climax. Until Bridget stopped her hands movements entirely. Franky groaned at the abrupt halt in movement, thrusting her hips upward seeking the relief she so desperately needed.  
  
“Not yet,” Bridget cooed before retrieving her hand from her knickers. She brought them up to Franky’s lips. She watched over Franky’s shoulder as the woman silently opened her mouth and lapped any trace of her juices from her lover’s hand. She was so fucking gorgeous, it took every ounce of strength for Bridget not to break down and give into her every wish. “Now stand up and take those off,” she commanded pushing the brunette off her lap.  
  
Franky followed instructions and removed the rest of her minimal clothing, standing before her lover completely nude. Her eyes had darkened significantly as the silently begged for further direction. Flushed from their interaction, Bridget took the time to slowly strip herself of her blouse and pants to leave herself in her cream colored underwear under Franky’s watchful eyes. She gently nodded towards her lap giving permission for Franky to straddle her.  
  
Bridget then took to worshipping her voluptuous chest, laying wet kisses over every bit of exposed flesh she could. She could feel the slick moisture coating her thigh as Franky unconsciously began to grind her hips downward in pleasure. Gently she delivered a soft bite over the already hardened nipple. The rhythm of the brunette’s hips stuttered as she gasped at the pinpricks of pain dancing over her skin. Bridget then flattened her tongue to sooth the skin, lapping long strokes over the beautiful little pink bud before switching towards her other breast to deliver the same lavish treatment. As her tongue and teeth continued, she brought her fingers up towards Franky’s mouth yet again. Graciously, she sucked the digits between her lips and coated them thickly in her saliva. Bridget pushed Franky back slightly to allow her better access to her centre. Franky’s head was thrown back with open lips waiting for the sweet push of pressure inside of her. Teasingly, Bridget allowed just the tip of her middle finger to enter the woman.  
  
“Bridget,” Franky panted attempting to press herself down further. She was held back with a firm grip of nails against her arse.  
  
“Say it and I will.”  
  
“Fuck me!” She groaned only to be instantly filled with two fingers. Her mouth remained open and her groans turned into heavy pants as she began to rock herself downwards. Nothing in the world could ever prepare Bridget for the sight of Franky fucking herself on her fingers. The bounce of her full breasts, the roll of those jutting hipbones. Everything about her was breathtaking as she took what she needed.  
  
Bridget knew she wouldn’t be able to last long after being teased, so she met Franky’s measured thrusts with curled fingertips against her sweet spot in order to send the brunette over the edge. In movements her hips shuddered roughly before the walls of her core clenched against Bridget. Franky’s moan wailed through their home as she reached her climax. She rode her through wave after wave of pleasure, until her hand was coated in the rewards of her efforts. Shaking and spent, Franky fell utterly exhausted against the woman beneath her, attempting to bring breath back into her lungs while her lover’s hand danced gently over her back.  
  
The blonde brushed Franky’s sweat-slicked hair away from her forehead causing Franky to look to her with heavy lidded eyes. Her lips were on hers gently for the first time that evening, cupping over Franky’s cheek gently. She loved when the shyness of post-submissive Franky set in. In an effort to avoid falling asleep in an uncomfortable heap on the couch, Bridget lead Franky upstairs to their bedroom. She turned down the sheets to tuck her lover in before stripping herself down and sliding in to press against her back. Franky sighed back toward the intimate touch.  
  
“I’m sorry I’ve been letting work take priority. I promise I will do a better job of leaving it at work,” she confessed with her lips tucked against Franky’s ear.  
  
“I’m sorry I’m a cranky bitch when I need to get fucked,” she pouted innocently in her sleepy state. Bridget couldn’t help but laugh. She delivered several sweet kisses to her partner’s back.  
  
“Well if you keep tempting me with those dance moves, we won’t have this problem,” she swatted her arse playfully.  
  
“I have very honest hips, Gidge,” she whispered with her eyes fluttering closed.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Shakira? Hips don’t lie?” Franky’s eyebrows creased as she struggled to explain her joke. She shook her hips lightly against the older woman.  
  
“Franky Doyle, you are ridiculous.”  
  
“You love it.”  
  
“Damn straight.”  


They were both asleep within moments.


End file.
